ptain Allen died. I am witness to that. But I have
something more for your ears. This afternoon, as I rode past, I saw an
old-fashioned English coach, with a liveried driver and footman, turn
into the gate. From this two ladies alighted and went into the house;
when the coach was driven to the stables. Now, what do you think of
that?"

"We are to have a romance enacted in our very midst, it would seem,"
replied my wife, in her unimpassioned way. "Other eyes have seen this
also, and the strange fact is buzzing through the town. I was only
waiting until we were alone to tell you that these two ladies whom you
saw, arrived at the Allen House in their carriage near about daylight,
on the day before yesterday. But no one knows who they are, or from
whence they came. It is said that they made themselves as completely at
home as if they were in their own house; selected the north-west chamber
as their sleeping apartment; and ordered the old servants about with an
air of authority that subdued them to obedience."

"But what of Mrs. Allen?" I asked, in astonishment at all this.

"The stories about her reception of the strangers do not agree.
According to one, the old lady was all resistance and indignation at
this intrusion; according to another, she gave way, passively, as if she
were no longer sole mistress of the house."

Constance ceased speaking, for there came the usual interruption to our
evening _tete-a-tete_--the ringing of my office bell.

"You are wanted up at the Allen House, Doctor, said my boy, coming in
from the office a few moments afterwards.

"Who is sick?" I asked.

"The old lady."

"Any thing serious?"

"I don't know, sir. But I should think there was from the way old Aunty
looked. She says, come up as quickly as you can."

"Is she in the office?"

"No, sir. She just said that, and then went out in a hurry."

"The plot thickens," said I, looking at Constance.

"Poor old lady!" There was a shade of pity in her tones.

"You have not seen her for many years?"

"No."

"Poor old witch of Endor! were better said."

"Oh!" answered my wife, smiling, "you know that the painter's idea of
this celebrated individual has been reversed by some, who affirm that
she was young and handsome instead of old and ugly like modern witches."

"I don't know how that may be, but if you could see Mrs. Allen, you
would say that 'hag' were a better term for her than woman. If the good
grow beautiful as they grow ol